


Eternal Bonds

by Rowaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Snape really is a vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3615264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowaine/pseuds/Rowaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape's in a bad situation that could threaten his life, but Harry has a way out. If the stubborn bastard will accept help from a Gryffindor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal Bonds

Title: Eternal Bonds

Author: Rowaine

Pairing: HP/SS, of course

Rating: hard R in spots, PG-13 on average

Warning: AU, some OOC, assume spoilers for all five books, but not too many. For those of you who, like me, find the lure of vampirism to be sensual beyond mere words, I pray that you will enjoy this story. Written post-OoTP, pre-HBP, but only used what I wanted to acknowledge.

Summary: Snape's in a bad situation that could threaten his life, but Harry has a way out. If the stubborn bastard will accept help from a Gryffindor.

Disclaimer: This little jaunt into the realms of fanfiction is intended solely for entertainment purposes. I receive no money or other considerations from anyone, other than the occasional review. The characters and world belong entirely to the goddess JKR -- may she be blessed in both this world and the next for her incredible imagination and literary talents.

Author's Notes: This is only my second attempt at writing from a first person viewpoint. Please bear with me while I try out a new style. I'd love to hear what you think! Feel free to email me with your thoughts, opinions, questions or whatever else. Bear in mind that all flames will be used in a bonfire to roast marshmallows and wieners.

Oh by the way, this is SLASH -- the stuff that makes the world go round -- ie, sex and love and lust and desire between two consenting people, regardless of gender or age or any of that nonsense. Slash means men loving men, so if that bothers you, walk away now. I don't want to hear any complaints or flames from morons who can read the warnings but still want to whine.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

From the normally silent dungeons, I heard his agitated approach. It didn't seem to matter how many years he'd gained since adolescence -- he was still somewhat ungainly on the ground. All the flying talent in the world could never make up for the lack of self-assurance he felt with each footstep. Ah well, there's nothing to be done about that.

I can't stop wondering why he insists upon keeping me company these days. Surely he has an abundant number of friends and adoptive family members to bother with his incessant desire to chatter away the evening hours. But no, ever since he returned to Hogwarts as a member of the faculty, he has been steadfast in seeking me out in my spare time. A handful of years ago, this foolish desire of his would have driven me over the edge of sanity... yet now... I find it a small comfort.

Damn Albus and his mechanisms! 'If you are prepared', indeed. Of course I wasn't prepared! Who would have been? The thirteen blessed years of respite between the Dark Lord's botched attempt at killing the Potter infant and his return to power went by too quickly. I had my potions, my beloved dungeons, and my duties as Head of Slytherin House to keep me harmlessly occupied. And then Dumbledore had to interfere once more, requesting in his 'I'm so old and cuddly and you really don't want to refuse anything I ask' way if I would return to the task of spying on the Dark Lord's movements.

Naturally, I said yes. Refusal was never an option when dealing with that manipulative old coot. If nothing else, he'd spike my tea with cannibas, or slip in some acid-laced lemon drops. That man is far more dangerous than a dozen Voldemorts.

So I returned to the fold, prostrating myself before a vastly transformed Dark Lord and begging to be forgiven for deserting him. To my surprise, my punishment was light. The wizard once known as Tom Marvelo Riddle had been Slytherin himself, and easily understood the desire to save one's own arse. If one was a pureblood, and willing to lick their Master's boots often enough.

Returning was hardly the most difficult aspect of my extracurricular duties. What Albus failed to comprehend, and I have never been sufficiently verbose enough to get the point across to his overbearing Light mentality, is that my position within the Death Eaters meant more than potion-making and the occasional torture. I was also used as the evening's entertainment for Voldemort's little soirees. Having a 'tame' vampire available to his every whim seemed to appeal to the bastard's inner sadist. Hrm, must recheck that statement. The Dark Lord was a sadist through and through, but deep down he was much worse than what he showed to most of his followers. Only Lucius Malfoy and I had the dubious pleasure of seeing the worst of his depravities.

And so I returned to my weekly meetings with reluctance. Knowing that, each time I was summoned, I would be called upon to mesmerize the night's victim, making him or her do dangerous things or act foolishly, saying whatever I willed them to say... and eventually, to die by my hunger.

Damn Albus Dumbledore! After thirteen years, I had full control over the bloodlust, the soul-aching thirst. And with one fractured sentence, he managed to unravel over a decade of hard work.

And damn Harry Bloody Potter too. For at this moment, he is pounding on my chamber door, demanding entrance and audience with me. The stubborn idiot refuses to accept my preference for peace and solitude, and now, with these undulating pains of hunger, he is doubly-damned. The Boy Who Lived was a bright star for our wizarding world's catatonic masses to follow, but the Man Who Conquered is tenfold more powerful. His blinding aura calls out to my hyperalert senses, drawing me toward him, making me thirst for his intoxicating level of magical superiority. The same thirst that once drove me into service to Lord Voldemort.

Ironic, isn't it? No matter how much he tries, Dumbledore's Golden Boy simply cannot avoid the numerous parallels between himself and Tom Riddle. Even the deeper recesses of his being resemble the recently deceased Dark Lord, although I am not cruel enough to remind him of that. Only a few years ago, I would have rejoiced at causing Potter whatever measure of pain or humiliation was within my grasp... but many things have changed for him, for myself, for the entirety of the magical world.

Reluctantly, I must say goodbye to such simple pleasures, and concentrate on ways to avoid the cunning little bastard. If rumors are true, the last Potter was almost placed in my House. While I can find no substantial proof of this accusation, it fails to surprise me. He is a truly terrifying mixture: the courage and stubbornness of Godric Gryffindor, combined with Salazar's own brand of cunning, ambition, and the will to survive at whatever cost.

Another shiver runs through me, simply thinking such things about the man. Yes, he is most certainly a man now. All impressions of him as a gangly schoolboy evaporated shortly after Black's death. The boy grew up in the harshest manner possible, through blood and tears, death and loss, dishonesty and betrayal. And the man that developed in the ashes of that bitter fire eventually faced his parents' murderer in equal combat, shattering what was left of Tom Riddle's desecrated soul and sending the remains to the farthest reaches of the Otherworld. I was there as well, watching his back as I've always done... and the non-human part of my being thrilled at such raw energy, urging me to...

Bah! Such cravings are immaterial. Potter is back at Hogwarts, of course, teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hounding me by night and every weekend. Defiling the sanctity of my peaceful dungeons with his disgusting perky-ness. And yet, I can never allow my baser instincts to override common sense. Potter must remain safe, no matter the costs. He will be filling too many empty places in the near future, and cannot be permitted to endanger himself, however noble his cause.

Merlin but that brat is persistent. Can't he tell that I do not desire his companionship? Or perhaps he can... and sees the underlying truth that must never be spoken. Would Albus betray my secrets to his protege? Maybe... since the young man will be taking over the Headmaster position in a few years. It is possible that he has been informed of my condition, and simply wishes to inquire on my health, or my ability to continue teaching these prepubescent monsters.

Oh what the hell. The worst he can do is fire me, and that cannot happen until Albus retires.

With a resigned sigh, I push myself out of my favorite chair, immediately resenting the absence of warmth. A gift to myself, the first Yule I spent on staff here. The chunky design might have caused many good Brits to curl their lips at my preference, but it was perfect for me. Overstuffed cushions on a low base, almost twice as wide as a standard armchair, with a slightly reclined back. The dyed leather a vibrant emerald green, with matching ottoman of course. Positioned only two paces from the fireplace, I was assured of penetrating heat whenever the need arose. But now, Potter had ruined that as well.

Damn Albus, and Potter too.

Before I have truly prepared myself to face him, I'm opening the door, permitting him entrance into my last retreat from the world. With one of his quick grins, he brushes past me, immediately assuming a position in the chair opposite mine. Dear gods, what have I done to deserve this?

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

"Good evening, Severus!" His voice has matured along with the rest of his body, now a soothing tenor. "We didn't see you at dinner tonight, so I came down to make sure you were alright."

A put-upon sigh escapes before I can check my reactions. "Do make yourself at home, Potter. Have a seat, kick off your shoes, and relax."

The infernal whelp has the audacity to do just that!

With an all-too-feline smirk of satisfaction, he toes off his loafers and curls his legs beneath him. "Thanks, don't mind if I do. Were you not feeling well this evening, Severus? It's rare that you miss dinner during the week."

Displaying a trifle more petulance than I would have preferred him to see, I flop back into my chair before answering his impertinent query. "Not at all. I had decided to catch up on some reading tonight, and called for a meal to be delivered to my quarters. What a pity that you missed joining me."

He chuckled at me, as if I had told a good joke. "I'm glad your sense of humor has returned finally. After... everything that's happened... you just haven't been yourself."

"And what, pray tell, have I been, if not myself?" Some dratted inner mischief forces me to respond to his juvenile banter.

"Oh, I don't know... You've been much quieter than usual." The Dumbledore- ish twinkle in his eyes gives me only a moment's warning. "Y'know, there were rumors, very hushed of course, about you when I was in school, Severus. Ron insisted that you were some sort of blood-sucking monster. 'Mione went so far as to research the various types of vampyres just to shut him up."

If he was waiting for an affirmative to his unspoken question, I must disappoint him.

"Anyways," he continued, not missing a beat, "she never showed her findings to Ron or the others, but she felt that I should read up on it, since I was working with you so often."

This news startled me somewhat. The surprise in my voice must have been evident, even to the sterling Gryffindor Golden Boy. "You've known for nine years now? Who have you told?"

All at once, his features tightened. The good natured young man turned into a serious, matured wizard, ready for the worst. "No one. Severus, I know you find it difficult to believe, but I would never intentionally hurt you. The work you did during the war, both wars, was so very important. You saved thousands of lives! The few who... died at your hands, so to speak, were in no pain, were they?"

How did he...? "What makes you think that I have the power to control pain receptors?"

He shrugged at me, elegant in its simplicity. "A logical guess. You always delighted in putting everyone in their place, but you would have killed yourself before letting any of us 'walking hormones' suffer true pain." He became silent for a moment, drawing a long shaky breath. "Do you remember the lessons in fifth year? When we were still trying to determine the extent of those visions and all?"

It seemed to be a rhetorical question, but I allowed him a nod.

"Not all the visions were controlled by Voldemort. Quite often, I saw actual meetings... watching through his eyes all the 'fun' he'd orchestrated for his followers."

Emerald eyes staring straight into my soul, pinning me to my seat. Yes, he would make a suitable replacement for Albus very soon.

"What did you do the first time, Severus? When I started Hogwarts, you showed very few symptoms of withdrawal, other than your skin tone. Do you... need assistance of any kind?"

Damn the man again! Albus was at least kind enough to leave me to my own devices. This over-enthusiastic little shite will continue to pry into my personal affairs, until he has all the answers I can give. "Thank you for your kind offer, Professor Potter, but I am in control of my condition. In only a handful of years, you shall see me back to the greasy git of your first term."

Frustrated, he sighed my name, "Severus. Gods, don't do this to yourself! There are alternatives, damn it. I'm not sure what sort of agreement you have with Albus, but we're going to need to work together here. Hogwarts can't afford to lose the best Potions Master in the world -- and don't turn meek when I say that -- and I... can't lose another friend. Your well-being matters to me, whether you like it or not."

Whatever I had been expecting, this surely wasn't it. With many people, I can read thoughts or emotions, intentions too; but those with sufficient strong wills to throw off Imperius could block me, such as Potter. Ever since he was a child. That used to annoy me quite a lot.

And again, the annoying subject of my revelry interrupted such thoughts. "You're always present for Quidditch games, so sunlight doesn't affect you. But in all our research, we never could pinpoint what sort of... condition... you have. And no, I don't believe anyone else suspects. Hermione won't say a word -- she likes you, and definitely respects you. Nor would I reveal anything to anyone. But Severus -" he reached forward and laid a warm hand on my knee "- you should tell someone, whether it's me or... whoever, how to help. I can see you're doing better lately, but you're always so tired. You've even let the students get away with pranks during class."

His attempts at levity brought a sardonic smirk to my lips, but this subject matter chilled me to the bone. Not that it was terribly difficult to do that, but still... "Potter, I thank you for your concern of my... condition. However, as you can clearly see, I am most assuredly in one piece, and 'alive' in my usual sense. If that is the extent of your questions, perhaps you will vacate my chambers now?"

His eyes met mine again, making me feel like a new species of moth pinned to a felt board. Such intense scrutiny should be illegal. He must have gotten that from his training with Albus. Damn them both.

"Severus, please hear me out. I won't approach you about this subject again, since you feel so strongly about handling it yourself. And I have every confidence that you will not endanger the children in any way. My sole concern is for *you*. For your sanity, your health, and... your peace of mind. I just want you to know that, whatever the problem, I'll be here for you. If you need... anything... let me know, alright? You don't have to do this again."

"Potter," alright, that came out as a hiss, but he provokes me! "You don't know what you're offering."

"Oh yes, I most certainly do." A self-deprecating laugh, cut off before it had a chance. "Do you honestly believe that I would have accepted the Defence position without solid knowledge of the subject matter? I *know* what you must be going through right now, you stubborn git. Maybe I've never been through it myself, but I've got a pretty damned good idea about the pains and aches and unquenchable thirst you are feeling. There's only so much that any potion can do." He took another deep breath, mustering his courage I assume. "All I'm saying is that you do *not* have to live this half-life. Please, Severus, just think about it."

I refused to meet his eyes this time. Instead, I stood and went to my locked bookcase of collectable texts, looking for one... Ah, there it is. "Before you commit yourself to such a fool-hardy blank cheque, perhaps you should read this, Potter. The entire book would expand your working knowledge on vampirism in general, but pay particular attention to chapters ten through fourteen. And for Merlin's sake, take care of that book! It's one of a kind, and costs more than you'll ever have in Gringotts."

With a reverence I'd never seen on his face before, he accepted the brittle leather-bound offering from me. I watched his expression while he read the title and author aloud, "Bonds of Eternity, by Edmunde von Brausen. There are only five copies of this in existence. Gods, Severus, where did you get this? It must have cost a fortune..."

"Indeed. Which is why I shall disembowel you during breakfast, spreading your entrails across the halls of our fair school, if you so much as drool on the pages. And do not bother attempting to copy it -- you'll find several ancient copyright protection spells embedded from cover to cover, unbreakable by any magic we have today."

"I... thank you! I'll take care of it, and return it by Monday morning." His eyes had rounded to saucers, as if he were still a small child let loose in Honeydukes.

"Oh for pity's sake, Potter. Get a grip on yourself. I'm only loaning you a book that any respectable Defence teacher should have read before accepting the task of teaching the subject. Remember which chapters you are to pay most attention to."

Still starry-eyed, he grinned up at me with delight. "Yes, of course. Chapters ten through fourteen. But Severus, don't think it'll scare me away. You should know me better than that by now."

One last smirk and he was out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

I blame you for this, Albus.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

The last conversation I had with Potter was Thursday night. I could only assume he taught classes the following day, as no classroom gossip said otherwise. He was not seen or heard from all weekend. Had I known that the blasted Boy Who Lived could be bribed into silence by a rare book, I would have tried this years ago.

Monday morning came all too early, but I showered and dressed before joining the rest of the staff for breakfast.

Every time I see young Malfoy sitting at the Head table, I feel a surge of vindication. At least one of my Slytherins made his own choices, refusing to follow his parents and friends in service to a maniac.

Sitting comfortably beside Draco is Hermione Granger-Zabini. What a name. I never bothered to ask how those two got together, nor will I now. Prurient curiosity is not enough to debase myself so far as to inquire about my students' romantic ties. But at least Blaise got her to a hairdresser.

Charms, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies and (of course) Defence. Each with new instructors since the war. At times, I've found myself missing Filius and his effervescent cheer. Usually I dose myself with 150 proof shortly thereafter.

Potter has yet to arrive, and I'm almost concerned for the annoying little shite. Another cup of coffee should fix that, of course. But by the time I've stirred in sugar and cream, the main doors open with a bang, and there he is. Practically bouncing his way toward me. Oh dear gods, he's twinkling again.

To avoid any more of a spectacle than we are already providing, and to prevent Potter's hyperactivity from tipping over my fresh cup of coffee, I clear the seat beside me and gesture for him to sit. Alright, I pointed at it, glared at him, and barked an order to "Sit down before you hurt yourself."

Whatever. He obeyed quickly enough. The borrowed text still in his hands, currently wrapped in thick velvet to prevent damage, he hopped into the proffered chair and placed the book in his lap. I watched him cast several protective spells on the velvet covering before he accepted any food or beverage. Hmm... Perhaps he can be trained after all.

"Severus, I've got to thank you again for lending me this book. It cleared up so very much I didn't understand about the subject. And yes, I paid special attention to those chapters you indicated, although it doesn't change my mind in the least. If anything, I'm more determined now."

He grinned over his cup of peppermint tea at me. Still twinkling. I should make plans to kill Albus. Not that I would follow through with them, but it might make me feel better to imagine a long, painful, truly horrendous demise.

In response to his babbling, I granted him a sneer and a noncommittal grunt. I'm sure he will follow me all over the school grounds until he's given a dissertation toward his 'good deed', but there's nothing saying I should make it easy for him.

My silence must have annoyed him quite a lot. One minute, I was enjoying my meal and the first rush of morning caffeine, and the next minute my entire body is turned to face him, forcing me to meet his eyes once more. Damn it. Why am I surrounded by overbearing wizards whose habits include matchmaking, meddling, and manipulation?

"Snape, we *will* discuss this further. You don't have a class until ten, correct? Of course, I checked already, so don't try to blow me off. If you're finished eating, let's go back to your rooms to talk, shall we?" There's that look again. "Unless you're in a hurry, in which case we can use my rooms."

It dawned on me that perhaps the persistent little bugger truly meant to go through with this. The non-human half of my being cheered loudly in my subconscious. The rest of me... wanted to flee the country. My reasons for that reaction are none of your business, thank you very much. Oh hell, now I'm retaliating against the voice in my head. Damn Potter, and of course Albus too.

"Very well, since you are so adamant about this. My quarters are much more secluded, and will assure us of the privacy this discussion requires. Would you care to complete your meal first, Potter?" Just maybe, I could duck out while he concentrated on filling his face...

"I'll send Dobby down with something. You aren't slipping away that easily, Severus."

Damn him damn him damn him damn him!

"Fine." Alright, so my usual tendency toward eloquence was shot to hell. It's definitely Potter's fault for ruining a perfectly good Monday morning. Er... For making it worse than any usual Monday morning. There. That sounds a bit better.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

Naturally, he seated himself before courtesy demanded that I offer. Some small part of me wanted to thank him for saving me the trouble, but I quickly squashed that desire. There was no need for me to feel any sort of gratitude to the annoying ingrate.

I settled on a good offense. "Very well, Potter. You've had time to peruse the most definitive work on vampires ever written, and yet you still seem determined to do something about 'this situation', as you call it. Do enlighten me as to your intentions."

That. Damned. Twinkle.

"Of course, Severus. I'm sure you're just bursting with curiosity." The only difference between Albus' gaze and this annoying little shite is the color. "Actually, your book only confirmed my suspicions." He stared at me, waiting with infinite patience until I met his eyes. "You need a committed donor. I'm offering. If you will recall any of Poppy's comments about my general state of health, you'll know that I have an excess of blood, and that I heal much faster than most other people."

Of course, I had suspected that this would be his goal. My base instincts screamed for me to accept the offer, which made my logical mind immediately refuse his assistance. "Once started, you would not be able to stop. Your body, your mind, would become dependent on the chemical exchange during... feeding. Merlin, I cannot believe that you are seriously considering this as an option? Wouldn't it be simpler to just fire me?"

"I wouldn't even think about firing you, Severus." Yes, he had definitely been taking lessons from Albus. "You are too important to the school, a veritable living legend. And the best Potions Master alive. Tell me... what is it that makes you so nervous to accept?"

I can't believe he would ask that. What wouldn't make me nervous about it? "You can't truly wish to become living food for a Dark creature for the rest of your existence. Really, Potter, the idea is ludicrous, even for you."

And then the damned whelp had the audacity to laugh at me.

"Sev, listen to me, will you? I *know* what I'm offering. You're miserable, you aren't healthy, and you could really use a few steady 'meals'. The fact that we would be tied together for the rest of my natural life doesn't bother me... but maybe it bothers you. I know I'm not your favorite person. Hell, you've hated me from the first time you saw me. But you should also know that I don't break promises. If we start this, I won't back out. Ever."

He still believed that I hated him? Interesting. But how to use that information...

"There's another part of that book that you didn't mention. Part of the bonding that occurs after the first few feedings on the same person. Is that what you're talking about? Really, it doesn't bother me either."

What? Oh. OH! I had forgotten that part...

"Because you're attractive, and it wouldn't be a hardship... Shit, I don't know how to say it without sounding like an idiot, but since you already believe that about me, what does it matter, right? Severus, I'm comfortable with *all* the forms that the bond will take."

And his eyes affirmed every word as truth. Holy hell. Maybe it would work after all...

"Uh, Severus... you're starting to glow a little bit. Does this mean you accept?"

Well, half of me had accepted last week. The other half was quickly catching up. What the fuck, might as well.

"Harry," I dropped my voice into a deep purr, knowing the effect it has on my 'victims', "if you are entirely serious about this, I suggest that you leave now. Teach class, eat a large lunch, but a light supper, and return tonight. Sometime after nine, since I have a detention to oversee." His reaction to the words was a simple acknowledgement, but I could *smell* his physical reaction to my tone of voice. Mmm, deliciously sensual. "I hope, for your sake, that you have a light class load tomorrow. You might be a bit... tired." At that, he shivered. Oh yes, giving in could very well be the best option.

"Excellent suggestions." No fear in his eyes, but a startling sense of anticipation emanated throughout his presence. "Should I bring anything with me tonight? Or perform any special preparations?"

Mmm, he's eager! "I would urge you to take a long, soothing bath after dinner. Calm yourself as much as possible before arriving at my door." Watching his evident arousal twitch, I purred once more, "Wear something comfortable and... easy to remove."

Ah yes, he is most assuredly excited at the prospect. Now why would Harry Potter, the wizarding world's savior, wish to bond himself to a Dark creature for the next hundred or more years? I pushed the question aside for the time being. Watching the handsome young man's quick breathing and flushed face kept me entertained, but the pounding of his heartbeat almost drew us together prematurely.

"Go now, Potter. We each have responsibilities to perform today. However... intriguing... your offer may be, I will not miss class to indulge your insanity. In the remote case that you do indeed wish to present your body for my purposes, return this evening at the proposed time. And now, if you will excuse me, I must get ready for the third year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuffs."

He might be as strong-willed as Albus, but no mortal could withstand the 'voice' forever. I watched with mild amusement as he shook his head briskly, snapping out of the trance-like state. But where I had expected some sign of annoyance, he... grinned at me. Bloody hell.

He stood and I followed suit, leading him to the door. As it opened for his departure, he leaned in quite close to my face, whispering in my ear, "Til tonight, Sev. I'm looking forward to it."

And then the little bugger kissed me.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~  
Ah, the joys of a well-planned detention. There are so many subtle ways of inflicting terror upon these urchins, all within the rules of the faculty codebook. It's the simple pleasures in life that make this job worthwhile, really.

After the duly-chastised miscreant scampered away from my classroom, I headed back to my chambers. A hot, relaxing bath sounded wonderful. On the off chance that Potter would actually show up, I keyed my wards to his presence before slipping into the jasmine-scented water for a nice, long soak.

I had just begun to notice my fingertips wrinkling from water absorption when he arrived. Torn between the desire to not be rushed and the concern that he would work himself into a state of nervous frenzy, I towel-dried my body but used a spell on my hair. A fair compromise.

Once the original shock wore off, it amused me that Dumbledore's Golden Boy would choose to do this. I could not understand his motives as yet, but I found myself trusting his promises. Even as a child, he always maintained a high level of integrity.

Perhaps that was why I hesitated on making him wait too long. He could not be talked out of this ridiculous situation, so it would be best for the both of us to insure that he remained unharmed. Even from his own idiocy.

Wrapped in my most comfortable black silk dressing gown, I joined him in my sitting room. "Good evening, Harry." He hadn't heard me enter, and jerked his head toward my voice. He was not quite nervous exactly... but he seemed to vibrate with that same curious anticipation as before.

"Hi Severus." He gave me a half-smile, his eyes shining brightly. No twinkles yet, for which I was eternally grateful. "Mmm, you smell nice."

Well, that was unexpected. I replied with a raised eyebrow. Maybe he'll expound for me.

"Would it hurt to have a drink before we begin? I brought some very nice brandy..." Or maybe he won't. Pity that. "Hmm, where are your glasses... Ah good, here you are."

He sipped and swallowed the deep amber liquid. And yes, I admit that I watched the muscular reflex of his throat with more than just a little hunger. If he had noticed me glowing earlier, then I can admit to studying his unique aura now. Incredible... I... am more nervous than I had expected him to be. He is only the second person to volunteer for this sort of event.

"Hey Sev, sit down before you stare holes in my shirt. I'm not going anywhere." He moved over to the couch, patting the section beside him.

What the hell, I might as well follow his lead. If he is stupid enough to go through with this insanity, then I would prefer him to be as comfortable as possible. He doesn't appear to be concerned or intimidated in any way, but the obnoxious... I must stop thinking of him in such terms; in just a little while, we are going to be much too intimate to maintain such a level of hostility between us.

"Potter." His eyebrow arches. "Fine then. *Harry*, are you absolutely -"

"- certain that I want to go through with this? Yes, I am. Have I considered what others may think about us? Not really. It isn't any of their business, but my friends will accept it, eventually. Am I nervous? A bit, but you won't hurt me on purpose, no more than is absolutely necessary. And considering that you are about to puncture my flesh in order to suck out my bodily fluids for your own nourishment, I figure that will involve just a wee bit of pain. But if I remember correctly, there are chemicals involved... when you bite, they replace a percentage of the blood you draw out... using a partial pain-killer and coagulant. That about right?"

I tried not to look impressed. Really. Perhaps I failed, as he looked entirely too smug. Oh well. So he really had done his homework for a change. "Very well, Harry. Are you ready to begin?" I could still smell something akin to sexual tension, building by the minute, but there was no underlay of fear, panic or nerves. Maybe he's a masochist?

Tossing back the last of his liquor, he set his glass on the floor. "Severus, I was ready last week, but you refused me then. I'm quite ready now. Can't you tell?"

And there's that damned twinkle.

With more speed than any human could possess, I pulled him across my lap, pinning him in place with my arms. He let out a tiny yelp of surprise, but his grin remained. Damn. At least he was no blushing virgin. Or was he? I inhaled his scent once again, but could detect no one else's aroma attached to his. Oh Merlin, don't let me be his first. He's almost twenty-six years old! Surely he had gotten laid at some point.

His lips fastened onto my earlobe, causing his soft ramblings to slur. "Been a very long time, Severus. But not ever again. Mmm, would you feel more comfortable if I dropped my shields?"

Shields? Oh, mental blocks. Hmm... "Perhaps. I doubt I shall ever be comfortable with this arrangement, however. You may try whatever you like."

Instead of using words, he consciously removed the barriers we created so long ago. Then he concentrated again, lowering the 'natural' walls. A tidal wave of emotions flooded over my senses, warming my chilled flesh like nothing else could. And again, he had spoken only truth. His feelings were quite clear: arousal, excitement, contentment, anticipation, happiness. That combination had never been directed at me, and certainly not in this sort of situation.

He must have sensed my uncertainty, because he began speaking into my ear. "I am yours now, Severus. For as long as you want me, even unto death. I willingly offer myself as your anima, and pray that you accept me."

Damn. That wasn't in the von Brausen text. Where did he find the ritual words for life-connection? I should remember to ask him later. Much later. My patience was at an end.

"I accept your gift of life, love, and body, and vow to never allow you to come to harm. With all that I am, I will protect you and care for you. Harry... there is still time to back out." I seemed to be suffering what should be his case of nervousness. Damned foolish Gryffindors, never know when to be afraid.

"You won't get rid of me that easily, Sev. Now make me yours." Gods, if I were a spectator, this would be funny. Here he is, about to become my buffet, and he's ordering me about.

I'm uncertain if he will be displeased or not, but before I taste his blood, I want to sample his lips. Oh yes, soft and warm and moist, trembling beneath mine and so very willing. His slender tongue flickered out, teasing my lower lip, begging for entrance. No hesitation whatsoever. From either of us now.

At some point, I must have relaxed my hold on him, because his arms encircled my neck, drawing me closer. His serpentine tongue lured me in to deepen our kiss, and what remained of my reservations evaporated. Yes, it would seem that he truly did want this. And everything that goes along with it. Wonders never cease, thank Merlin!

Some time later, we parted to catch our breath. He nuzzled into my neck, planting tiny chaste kisses along my jawline. My arms had found a comfortable home wrapped around his torso, and had no intention of changing positions any time in the near future. But Harry had other ideas, of course.

"Severus, I'm not complaining at all, but couldn't we move to your bed now? You're bound to be comfortable in that robe, but I'm still wearing all these layers." He never was the master of being subtle. When he started nibbling my collar bone, I forgave him.

Many of the rumors and myths concerning vampires are false. I have often been grateful for the misinformation being spread about those of us inflicted with this damning hunger. But there are times, such as now, when super-human strength or speed could be quite useful.

Before his questing lips caused me to lose all symblence of control, I had us in my bedroom, sprawled across the silver satin sheets. A quick swish and a word had his Muggle cloths neatly folded on the dresser, my robe hanging across the foot of the bed. Such a simple maneuver, but he was impressed.

I almost choked on that thought. Why should it matter to me whether or not Harry Bloody Potter is impressed with my abilities? Then those sinfully soft lips brushed against a bare nipple, and all uncharitable thoughts fled my mind. Have I gone so long without a lover that such a simple, innocent gesture is my undoing? Or is it the man beneath me?

I suspect that it is entirely Harry, and offer him one of my best sneers.

The exasperating man sneered back. *sigh*

I'm not sure what he expected to happen. Even the von Brausen text, as thorough as it is, does not cover such events as this. The first feeding between potential lifemates is much more intense than what most mortals hear about in movies or books.

Count Dracula seemed to thrive on what I call 'one night stands' for his meals. And yes, I have a somewhat morbid sense of humor. Considering my nature, do you blame me? My point exactly. Back to the original topic.

Tonight would be full of sensations and emotions, setting the scene for (what the books laughingly call) our 'future' together. Somewhere in my head, warning bells began to clatter... It took me several moments of hard thought to locate the reason -- Harry Potter is much more powerful than I am, magically speaking, and may resent any form of dominance. No matter that he threw himself at me.

In the interest of self-preservation, I had to ask, "Harry, have you ever done this before?"

"Which 'this' are you referring to, Severus? I've never allowed anyone to feed from me, but yes, I've had sex before. Both giving and receiving, and both genders, if that's your question." Somehow, he saw through me, saw the uncertainty I half-tried to hide. "When I offered myself to you, I meant in *every* way. It's been awhile, but I want you. Is that plain enough? In or around me, take your pick."

Oh. My. Yes, that was plain enough. This could become... explosive.

"Last question." I waited until he looked into my eyes. No twinkles, thank the gods, but they had darkened with lust. "Do you have any high-necked shirts? It would be best if the students and the other staff members have no knowledge of... this."

"Yes, and I even brought one with me. You never give me much credit for planning ahead, do you?" He took one of my hands into his own and slid it down his body. With a little shifting to permit arms between our bodies, he nudged his opening with my finger... and it slipped in fairly easily. "I took your advice to heart, Severus. Now why don't you stop dithering and start... whichever part is first."

The best I could do was nod my head in acknowledgement. Once again, the Boy Who Lived was a step ahead of me. But for the first time, I was grateful for this.

His hand fell away, reaching behind my neck to pull me down for another kiss. With his mouth occupied, I let my fingers explore his greedy little hole. He must have enjoyed it, for his kisses became more desperate, not that I was complaining. As soon as he gasped for air, I let my lips trail across his jaw, gently licking under his ear, then moving down the column of his neck.

His pulse was strong and steady, not overly fast; it called to me, urging me to rip my victim's neck open and drain him dry. That instinct was fairly simple to dispel, however persistent it was.

I've heard several of my fellow vampires discussing their favorite locations for puncturing and drinking. Some say the femoral artery, which I have found to be quite messy. Others say the wrist, since it's easier to hide with a shirt cuff. My preference has always been the jugular vein, the fastest flowing and most evident conduit available, and simple to cover the puncture wound with a collar.

When my tongue located that divet of muscle above his collar blade, I heard him moan loudly. Of course, my fingers were still working inside his arse, so that could have something to do with it. But it most likely had to do with the fact that he *knew* where I would be biting him. Don't ask me how.

And it turned him on even more.

My fingers sought out his prostate, and I delighted at the gasp he expelled. Rubbing across that little gland, I let my teeth sink into his salty flesh, swallowing quickly at the rush of metallic blood that flooded my mouth. So rich, of course it would be -- this is the Golden Boy's blood. I pushed those thoughts aside, angry at myself for... I'm not sure anymore. Mmm, how could I have fought any harder against this?

An internal warning told me to stem the flow before Harry lost consciousness. With another swipe of my tongue, the correct chemicals healed the wound and the small bruise surrounding it. His moans had softened, from weakness and blood loss mainly, and his body was rather limp. Most of it. Except.. oh my, Harry certainly has grown up, hasn't he?

And that was the other part of the bonding... the part I was most concerned about. Yet here he was, very willing and very ready, spread out beneath me looking every inch as debauched and sensual as the most renowned hetaera. It didn't take long for me to replace my fingers, inching into him slowly and carefully. His sigh of relief was almost embarrassing at this point. As if he had been waiting much too long for me to take him, mark him, own him. I shivered at the thought, and he arched into me again. Did I say that out loud?

Perhaps, since his vibrant green eyes found mine again, and the expression on his face said 'thank you' in such a way that, yes, he had been waiting for this. I doubt I'll ever understand. And maybe I don't have to. Some questions have no answers, and others have answers that no one should ever know. At least Harry appeared to hold his own answers, and perhaps, for him, that was enough.

Moving inside of him felt exquisite. The sudden tightening of his arse muscles snapped my attention back to the present. I'm ashamed to admit that I blushed, being caught in my thoughts at such an intimate time as this. He seemed ready to forgive me, however, as long as I didn't miss a stroke.

Oh Merlin, thank you for bull-headed Gryffindors with less sense than the gods gave to lichen.

He began contracting around me, pulling more intense sensations from somewhere around my spine. With a shout, he reached completion, holding me closer than ever, practically sucking me further inside his supple body. And now I could not prevent myself from speeding up, ramming deep within him, praying I didn't hurt him too badly, but gods I couldn't stop now...

... The world exploded and was rebuilt behind my eyes. A million colorful fireworks, perhaps courtesy of those damned Weasley monsters, set off in my mind. I can't remember feeling such intensity from this simple act before, but I haven't the energy to question it now.

I'm not sure where my wand is now, but that too can wait. With limp muscles, I draw a blanket over us both, curling my body protectively around his. He murmurs a pleased 'good night, Sev' that almost sounded like 'good night, luv' instead, but I'm too exhausted to question him.

His rich blood races through my veins now. Between feeding for the first time in several years and the almost-forgotten lethargy found after really good sex, all I want to do is sleep. The warm body beside mine seems to agree, since Harry is purring softly, his breath shallow and even.

Whatever my objections were to this arrangement, I can no longer recall. Tomorrow is soon enough to ask any questions; tonight deserves a proper dreamless sleep, unassisted by potions, relying only on the warm and caring young man in my arms.

The last thing I remembered before letting sleep take me was, 'Merlin save me, I'm starting to wax poetic.'

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~   
For some reason known only to himself, Albus enchanted several panes of glass in my private rooms to act as charmed windows, showing the weather and approximate time of day outside. And thanks to the glaring sunlight, I awoke from the most peaceful slumber I've ever had. Damn the man.

A warm body beside mine snuggled up against my leg, rubbing against me. Whatever dream Potter was having must have been quite erotic -- the evidence being his leaking prick spreading clear fluids across my thigh. For the first time in too many years, I allowed myself the pleasure of a morning cuddle, caressing the lithe body of my... lover? yes, I suppose he fits that category now.

I've no clue if he was in the process of waking up, or if he was being driven further into his dream, but he seemed to enjoy my ministrations. The soft stroking across his back, over the curve of his arse, around his front to pet the light fur on his lower stomach, finally leading to his swollen morning erection. Ah, the joys of having a young lover.

He curled further into me, bringing his leg across my own erection, moving gently to create the most delicious friction. If he was not coming to consciousness on his own, he soon would with my help.

I lowered my face to his neck, intending to investigate the damage. True to his word, Harry healed rapidly -- there were no signs of the previous night's activities on his neck. When I was at last satisfied that he had received no lasting injury, I pressed my mouth against his wonderfully smooth flesh, lathing the abused area with my tongue.

He must be a very sound sleeper. He also talks in his sleep, a fact I have since found quite entertaining. Now, his only words were "More Sev, please". I took this as a very positive sign, and continued my luxurious exploration of his body. The sheer decadence of having such a fine specimen of wizard splayed before me sent shivers of pure delight coursing through my groin.

About the time when my teeth grazed the minute puncture wound, Harry's body stiffened against mine, and a rush of hot liquid spilled across my hip. The added stimulation from my investigation of his charms had pushed him over the edge more rapidly than I had expected. Which simply meant that I would have to wake him up and start again. Oh damn the luck.

Licking and nibbling my way up his neck, across his jawline, ending at his swollen lips, I encouraged him to join the land of the living. Alright, I had chosen to ignore the art of subtlety for the moment. And it worked, thank you very much. Harry's eyes flickered open, coming into focus on my face. For once, I didn't begrudge him that damned sparkle. After last night, I could afford to be generous.

"Mmm, morning Sev. Sleep well?" His voice was pleasantly furry. A balm for frazzled nerves. Not that I had any over-taxed neurons left.

"Quite. And yourself?" I honestly wanted to know. This sort of arrangement was as new to me as to him.

"Never better." He nuzzled against my face, bending his neck to one side, offering me a 'quick sip' before breakfast. And damn me for accepting. I could easily get accustomed to this.

The wake-up sex was pretty fantastic too.

One of the worst drawbacks of having a life-connection with your anima would be the tendency to acquire each other's habits and use of language. It could only be a good thing for Potter, but I rather miss my linguistic skills. Perhaps he will finally show some signs of intelligence in a potions lab. I shan't hold my breath over that one.

We shared a shower -- a new and interesting experience for me, not that I would object to a repeat performance -- and he flooed back to his own quarters to dress for the day. My clothing is simplicity itself, of course, since it is rather difficult to mismatch articles when my entire wardrobe consists only of black items. He said it was 'boring but efficient'. I'm almost afraid that he will begin replacing my normal attire with some hideous castoffs that Dumbledore himself would shun.

I met him at the entrance to the Great Hall for breakfast, muttering an inane greeting for the sake of the general populace. He grinned cheekily at me, returning the 'good morning' with more energy than should be legal.

As we seated ourselves for the meal, I noticed several people pointing at me and talking quietly to their neighbors. A single raised eyebrow to my... lover (why is it so difficult for me to identify him as such, even within my own mind?), and he leaned over to whisper, "Your skin is almost normal already, and your hair isn't limp and oily. The physical changes happened overnight, literally. Just don't let any of them catch you in an unused classroom somewhere, ok? I don't want to share you."

I almost blushed at his comment, and was gratified to note that his face was pinkened as well. Whether from the compliments or the possessive request, I couldn't tell. Why would he... To hell with it, I'll never understand the motives of this strange man.

Dumbledore came in later than usual, donned in the most hideous fuschia robes I have ever had the displeasure of seeing. Covered in tie-dyed butterflies. The only reason I can think *not* to kill him is that there would be an inquiry from the Ministry of Magic, and I would rather not have them polluting my dungeons.

One event from breakfast stood out in my mind. When Albus looked over in our direction, eyes sparkling brighter than his norm, Harry stared back *without* twinkling. The gleam in the old coot's eyes dimmed several notches. I might actually have to reward my anima for that. After I've figured out the why's and wherefor's of it. Those two seem to speak in a language that the rest of us can never comprehend, with no interpreter in sight.

It was also interesting to realize that I required about half as much coffee as usual to hone my mental capacity into top form. Perhaps feeding on a regular basis would turn out better than I had imagined. One can hope.

Harry's appetite was tremendous, but that was hardly news to anyone. I have never seen any other being put away quite as much at one sitting. But at least his table manners are more refined than his fellow Gryffindors. Watching that table at meals is decidedly bad for my digestion.

The day went on from there with few interruptions in routine. Several cauldrons exploded. The offending students spent time in the Infirmary, then in detention for their clumsiness. I am quite pleased to say that the newest generation of Weasleys has yet to darken the halls of Hogwarts. When they reach school age, I may have to consider retiring.

I have this feeling that Harry will refuse to let me leave. For some reason, that thought upsets me far less than it should.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

Mrs. Granger-Zabini paid me a visit after detention. I can only assume that I hid my surprise fairly well. She apparently wished to interrogate me about my 'involvement' with her best friend. It was a pleasure to thwart her attempts at information-gathering.

She left in a huff of not-quite bushy brown hair and swirling Gryffindor red robes. I must admit that her flair for the dramatic is improving. Blaise is a better influence on her than I had first imagined.

No more than a minute passed before I overheard voices in the corridor. Something told me that Harry was one of the speakers, which meant that his friend had caught him on her way back to the Tower. The customs against eavesdropping have never bothered my conscience. Casting a quick surveillance charm, I waited for them to continue.

" 'Mione, just leave it. Severus isn't 'up to' anything, and I'm perfectly capable of handling it myself, even if he were. Can't you see where I might be interested in him?" Ah, the voice of my anima. He still hasn't developed enough tact to deal with females.

"No Harry, I can't. In all the time we've known him, Snape has been nothing but cruel toward you. Why you would want to pursue any sort of relationship with that man, I simply cannot understand. What happened to that last girl you were dating? She was quite nice." Hmm... the bookworm's impatience would lose her this round.

"She was impressed with my image, but was completely apathetic toward me. Severus has never given a damn about this stupid scar, and that is one of the reasons I like being around him. If you can't see why, I'm sorry, but I won't quit seeing him."

"Really Harry, you sound like Ron now. Childish petulance won't win any points -"

"Honestly, 'Mione, you're one of my best friends, and I love you. But if you can't be happy for me, regardless of whom I chose to spend my life with, then... we've got little else to say. I need your friendship, but I don't need you acting like an interfering mother hen." Oh ouch! Score: Potter 1 -- Bookworm 0

The meddling witch changed tactics. Tears. I heard her sniffling quite clearly. Someone should tell her that such over-acting can cause sinus infections.

"Don't bother with the waterworks, Hermione Granger-Zabini. You know good and well that they don't work on me. Just admit that you're sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and isn't welcome, then be happy that I've found someone I really enjoy being with." Damn, the boy has some talent with guilt trips. He's been studying with Albus again.

The conversation continued along these lines for several more minutes, but Potter eventually won by a hair. She agreed to back off in a 'wait and see' policy, but vowed to castrate me in several ingenious ways if I hurt her friend. Understandable and noble, but I felt the ache of phantom hexes for the next hour.

When Harry finally arrived at my chambers, I made sure that he doctored the afflicted area. To our mutual enjoyment.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

It's nearing midnight now, and he is dozing at my side again. There is an uneasy peace between us right now, which I cannot define. At times, it feels as if he has been a part of my life forever, and belongs with me as much as my hands or legs. But then I remember the past years, so simplistic in my solitude, and resent the intrusion of another person in my life.

And damn him, Harry seems to understand both sentiments.

We spent the last few hours talking mainly. Learning each other's lesser- known quirks, delving into the major events of our respective pasts, discovering idiosyncrasies. To say that I was surprised by his depth of character would be an understatement. A very pleasant mistake on my part, which I was glad to rectify.

My first impression of the scrawny eleven year old had been harsh but fair. Before I learned his identity. He has told me a similar story about his feelings for me. Odd how that works.

It is also somewhat interesting that our talents coincide quite well. His areas of weakness are my strengths, and vice versa. And yes, I am able to acknowledge my own weaknesses, thank you.

Perhaps the only thing that truly unnerves me at this point is that, after only two days, I have begun thinking of us as a couple. Whatever our relationship is to one another, it hardly seems romantic in nature. Of course, we have our fair share of sex, sleeping in the same bed, but that is for sheer convenience's sake. Isn't it?

Having never had a 'healthy' long-term relationship, I must confess that I wouldn't know what to look for. In some aspects, that term could apply to us. In other ways... I drink his blood, for Merlin's sake! How 'healthy' is that?

But who defines 'healthy'? And what business is it of theirs to determine the strength of my personal life?

I suspect that they are related to Albus in some way.

Have I mentioned that his robes were truly offensive today? I shall have nightmares with them in a starring role. That disgusting reddish-pink color flooding my vision, with green and purple butterflies flouncing around, suffocating me with their syrupy sweetness. It's enough to curdle my stomach. And it did, at every meal.

There must be some way to infiltrate his wardrobe. Perhaps set off one of the Weasley twins' color transformation pranks. Anything to remove the various insect, constellation, or vacation equipment prints that lavishly decorate his robes.

I'll have to ask Harry to join me in the 'prank'. He would undoubtedly find out, and warn Albus unless I invite him to assist me. This is one of those times when I truly miss being alone. What good is a co-conspirator when they haven't the basic knowledge necessary to perform the stunt successfully?

At least he's competent in other areas.

More than competent, if I were to be honest about it. As he said, giving or receiving, he's been on both sides of the board. I let him take charge this evening, and was quite pleased with the results. Multi-talented, I believe is the term for it...

Well Albus, your wizarding makeover will have to wait for another day. Your protege has worn me out again. Not that I mind all that much. Actually, I think I'll hang onto him, if it's all the same to you. His presence is... soothing in all the right places, and stimulating in all the rest. Not that you need to know the details.

Dirty old man. May your beard be overrun by a bevy of rabid kneazles with foul breath.

Don't look at me like that. At least I'm no longer damning him.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

One of the other things that would eventually annoy me about this connection with Harry Potter is that it encouraged me to become more trusting. Paranoia has kept me alive for a good long time, but after joining with him, I've found it difficult to retain the necessary level of constant vigilance of which I was accustomed.

Oh I don't necessarily blame him for that. He isn't the most trusting of fools, even if he is a Gryffindor. But it is unnerving to notice that I have stopped performing several basic self-preservation spells on a regular basis.

The damage is not terribly drastic as yet. One minor potions accident managed to coat my robes, and a bumbling second year spilled something vile on me during dinner this evening. Just enough for me to notice that I had forgotten to cast the preventative spells.

Perhaps, if I can train Harry to use the same precautions, my own routine will return in short order.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

"Severus," his voice brought me out of my revelry. The underlying whisper of uncertainty tinted his tone.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Er... How much can you read of my emotions?" What is he really asking, I wonder. He knows that his shields are too effective for me to get much... Oh.

"Not as much as I could with a less powerful wizard, but more than... before." If he persists in fishing for answers, I shall have to draw it out.

"You git, that isn't what I asked."

"Then please speak plainly, Potter." No, I refuse to use the 'voice' yet. As delightful as his reactions to it are.

His expression is... disconcerting. A combination of ancient wisdom (probably learned from Albus, damn him), and childlike nervousness. "Can you read my mind yet?"

Hmm... he sounds... hopeful? Why would he want me to do such a thing? "I have not tried to do so, Harry. What would be the reason behind your questions?"

"Eh, nothing much, I guess. I just... You haven't berated me about taking stupid chances or anything like that since the other night, and you stopped asking questions about why I offered this..."

Definitely nervous. But there is a grain of true concern as well. Have I missed something important by not intruding on his private thoughts and feelings?

Before I had the chance to experiment, I felt his shields lower again, bathing me in strong emotions. Merlin, that young man feels everything so intensely. The obvious tension from whatever was causing his discomfort was the mere tip of the iceberg. He had practiced lowering his barriers; I received the entire spectrum from him this time, and was astonished to discover how deeply he truly felt about me. How had I missed this?

"Harry... when did you begin to feel like this?" I could not ask my first question. Not yet. Perhaps he would divine my need and offer the answer.

"Toward the end of sixth year. The more I learned about you, the more I began to care. Then one day I woke up and you weren't the greasy git, or a professor, or a fellow Order member... you were an attractive man that I couldn't imagine life without." His blush went far down on his chest. I stifled the urge to follow its progress.

"Then you got hurt in the war, and I... stopped being able to concentrate. All I could think about was how much I worried about you. And no one would have known how to heal you properly, because you're too damned proud to tell them, and you've sworn Dumbledore to never tell. I..."

Oh yes, he had more to reveal. Patience was paying off quite nicely. I let him flounder for the moment, while I traced circles around his nipple.

"When you were in the Infirmary, a private room of course, I snuck in to visit. Poppy had finally gone to sleep, and the only other person there at the time was doused with Dreamless Sleep. I... uh... that medical training course I took? Yeah, well, it helped a lot. You wouldn't wake up! Nothing was helping, all the specialists Poppy sent for. So I... tapped one of my arteries and fed you."

Holy hell. That would explain several things.

"Mr. Potter, are you trying to tell me that you intentionally initiated a bonding ritual with my unconscious form during your seventh year? That you've been harboring a deep emotional attachment to your most hated instructor all this time?"

He couldn't meet my eyes, but his nod of admission was enough to confirm my accusations. At least - now - some of my protective urges toward him make sense. I had noticed, during his final year at school, that my sense of duty toward him had altered, but I could not pinpoint the reason for this change.

Lost in my own ruminations, I almost missed his soft query.

"Severus... you don't want me to leave, do you?"

Hrmph. "No Harry. It would do precious little good anyways. We are bonded in the most intimate ways now, and cannot take leave of each other over such trivial issues."

"Then may I ask something?" There was too much for me to think over already. The best I could offer was a shrug for him to continue. "Right. Does it bother you? Being cared about and all that... Cus I can't help it, really."

"Hmm? Oh, no... It simply... explains a few things."

"Like what?"

He would have to ask that, wouldn't he. But before I could formulate an evasive answer, he used one of my own tricks, piercing my mental shields and seeking the truth.

"Oh my. Sev!"

"Don't get soppy, Potter. This changes nothing."

"This changes everything. But I don't expect it to be public."

"Insolent whelp."

*I love you, Severus.* The words echoed in my mind. His voice, but those delectable lips hadn't moved. So the minx has discovered how to send thoughts through our link.

*I merely tolerate you. At night, during meals, and the occasional after- class snog in my office.*

*Right. Good to know, thanks love. Want to start that snog early?*

Life is indeed strange. For years, he was the thorn in my side that refused to go away. Then he was the praised savior seeking refuge from the masses of adoring fans. Now... now he is my mate, in every sense of the word. And finally I begin to think that, even for one such as myself, there might be happiness and peace.

Harry Potter is certainly not perfect. He's impulsive, foolhardy, and not the most intelligent wizard by any means. But I cherish those imperfections, as each reminds me that he is MINE. And I am his. And that is the way it must be. For the rest of our lives.

~*~~*~~*~HP~*~SS~*~~*~~*~

End


End file.
